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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902933">Playground Romance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_therapeutic_romance/pseuds/my_therapeutic_romance'>my_therapeutic_romance</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Reader-Insert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:34:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_therapeutic_romance/pseuds/my_therapeutic_romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Weasley's have always been like a second family to y/n. So how did she manage to develop feelings for George? And could they be requited? (Gender neutral reader)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>George Weasley/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Playground Romance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“(Y/n)!” you heard Ginny calling.<br/>
“In the kitchen!” you answered.<br/>
You were sitting at the table, talking to Mrs. Weasley as she prepared dinner. Your parents were out of town for the week, and since the Weasleys had been like a second family to you since before you could remember, you were spending that time at the Burrow. The door swung open to reveal Ginny, Fred, and George, all carrying their broomsticks.<br/>
“We’re all going down the street to play Quidditch. Want to join?” Ginny asked, leaning her broom against the doorframe to sweep her hair up into a ponytail.<br/>
“Ahh!” you groaned, “I’d love to, but my broomstick’s in for repairs!”<br/>
“Well, couldn’t you just let them borrow one of ours?” Mrs. Weasley interjected.<br/>
“Charlie, Harry, and Ron are playing, too. We haven’t got any spares,” Fred replied.<br/>
You sighed. You loved playing Quidditch with the Weasleys. Maybe you could just go watch.<br/>
“You can use mine,” George spoke up.<br/>
“What? Oh no, that’s alright, George. I can just watch,” you answered, standing up.<br/>
“Not by yourself! That’s no fun. Come on, just use mine,” he replied as the group exited the kitchen.<br/>
“No! You use it! I just won’t play,” you insisted.<br/>
“Well, then I won’t play, either,” George said decisively, giving you a defiant look, which broke into a smile.<br/>
You rolled your eyes, but smiled back, opening your mouth to say something else.<br/>
“Maybe neither of you should use the broomstick, if it’s going to be this difficult to work out,” Ginny interrupted in an exasperated voice, “George, just keep (y/n) company.”<br/>
“Works for me,” George answered.<br/>
“No! George, just play, for Merlin’s sake!” you argued.<br/>
“You’re not going to break him now, (y/n). Might as well just give up,” Fred told you, opening the door.<br/>
Harry, Ron, and Charlie were waiting on the lawn.<br/>
“We’re going to the field by the playground, right?” Ron asked.<br/>
“Yeah, come on,” Ginny answered, leading the way down the street.<br/>
George marched purposefully to the shed and put his broomstick away as you waited for him, shaking your head. He caught up to you with a smirk, the two of you following a little ways behind the rest of the group.<br/>
“You’re so stubborn,” you chuckled.<br/>
“And proud,” George replied, bumping your shoulder with his.<br/>
Your heart fluttered at his touch. For the past year or so, you had found your feelings for George developing beyond what they ever had before, and you were determined to shut them down. You had known George since you were a baby! He had always been like a brother to you. It was absolutely unthinkable to develop a crush on him. So you did your very best to squash down those feelings, which didn’t always work.<br/>
“Well, what are we going to do?” you asked, trying to brush off your feelings, “Just watch?”<br/>
George shrugged as you crossed the street towards the open field they always played in.<br/>
“There’s always the playground,” he suggested, half-joking.<br/>
You turned your head to look at the playground that held so many memories. So many summers of playing with the Weasleys on that equipment came to mind. You hadn’t been there in a while now.<br/>
“Let’s do it,” you shot him a grin, “It’s been ages!”<br/>
“It has,” he agreed, smiling back, and then suddenly, “Race you there!”<br/>
He shot off running towards the playground. You reacted quickly and sprinted after him. The red slide was always the finish line. You managed to catch up with him at the end and smack the slide at the same time.<br/>
“Agh! You’re faster than you used to be!” George gasped, leaning over the slide.<br/>
“Or maybe you’re just out of shape,” you shot back with a joking smile.<br/>
“Whatever,” George grumbled, though he was chuckling.<br/>
You looked around at the playground, smiling reminiscently.<br/>
“We haven’t been here in so long,” you remarked, walking a few steps to sit down on one of the swings.<br/>
“I know. It’s too bad,” George agreed, following suit and sitting on the swing beside you, “Remember when Percy broke this swing?”<br/>
You laughed at the memory and nodded, “Or remember when Bill put Ron on top of the monkey bars and then he fell off? I’m amazed he didn’t crack his skull.”<br/>
“Yeah, well. He’s rather thick-headed, isn’t he?” George snorted.<br/>
The two of you watched the Quidditch game starting up in the nearby lot. There was a breeze blowing your hair in your face, and you swung along with it. The silence was interrupted when George spoke again.<br/>
“Remember when I kissed you?” he asked in a softer voice, “We were- what- seven? Right there.”<br/>
He pointed to the platform up the ladder to the slide.<br/>
You tensed up at the topic, but you remembered that moment. It was so long ago, you hadn’t thought about it in forever. You attempted (and probably failed) a casual laugh.<br/>
“Oh yeah,” you replied, “We were seven. Having a wedding, I think.”<br/>
“Of course,” George grinned, “We always assumed we would get married, didn’t we? And our parents thought it was so cute.”<br/>
“I never told them you kissed me, though,” you remembered, blood rushing to your face, “That was our big secret.”<br/>
“Me neither,” George replied, “I don’t know if I ever even told Freddie about that.”<br/>
You laughed softly, staring up at the platform, mostly to avoid looking at George. But when the silence grew thick between the two of you, you turned your gaze to him, searching for something to say.<br/>
George was swinging vaguely back and forth, pushing with his feet. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. And he was watching you. An absent-minded smile was on his lips as he looked at you. Your face grew hot and you raised your eyebrows at him.<br/>
“What?” you asked awkwardly.<br/>
“Just thinking,” George replied vaguely.<br/>
You waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t you prompted him: “About?”<br/>
“When I was seven, kissing you was the best thing I had ever done. I thought about it for weeks afterwards. I was just thinking how great it would be to kiss you now,” George answered, leaning back and holding the chains of the swing in his hands.<br/>
You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Your face was burning. Did he just say he wanted to kiss you? Maybe it was a joke. It must be a joke. Again, you gave an unconvincing laugh and lowered your head.<br/>
“Yeah, right,” you giggled awkwardly, “I’m probably no better at kissing than when I was seven.”<br/>
“Maybe you just need practice,” George suggested, leaning his head against the chain closest to you.<br/>
You didn’t even have a response to that. Was this real life?<br/>
“(Y/n),” George spoke softly.<br/>
You looked up to meet his eye.<br/>
“In case you didn’t gather this: I’m asking if I can kiss you.”<br/>
Your mouth went dry as you stared at your friend. He really did want to kiss you! How could this be happening? What were you supposed to say?<br/>
George gave you a melancholy smile, probably assuming that you didn’t want to.<br/>
“You can say no,” he said encouragingly, “I understand. We’ve been friends for so long.”<br/>
“Y-yeah, we have,” you answered, “I just...I mean, why would you want to kiss me?”<br/>
Your friend looked up at the sky and smiled to himself.<br/>
“Because I really like you. I think you’re amazing. And I guess it just seemed like a fitting time.”<br/>
You watched his face for a moment, your mind racing. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke.<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
George turned to look at you quizzically.<br/>
“Okay,” you repeated, “Kiss me.”<br/>
He looked at you skeptically at first, but you gave him an encouraging grin and leaned across the swing towards him. A smile spread slowly across George’s face. He reached out and took hold of the chain of your swing, pulling it towards himself to bring you closer. Gently taking your chin in his hand, he studied your face lovingly for a moment, and then softly kissed you. The kiss was very gentle and lingering. When he pulled back, he had an enormous and endearing grin on his face, which was highly contagious. You looked at each other, unsure of what to say.<br/>
“...Better than last time?” you finally came up with.<br/>
“Oh yeah,” he replied, “Loads.”<br/>
“Well...I suppose you probably assumed this, but I really like you a lot, too,” you clarified.<br/>
“I hoped so,” George said with a grin.<br/>
You both turned to see what the others were doing, and George slid his hand down the chain to your hand, intertwining your fingers and letting your clasped hands hang between the swings.<br/>
“I suppose this changes our relationship a bit?” he asked.<br/>
“Not that much, really,” you considered, “You’ll always be my best friend. Even if you’re more than that, too.”<br/>
“Naturally,” George chuckled, squeezing your hand, “And you’ll always be my best friend, too.”</p>
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